Final Farewell
by Thalion King's Daughter
Summary: The final farewell of Jaer and Jaerin Peridanson to the Four Sovereigns of Narnia. Narnia has lost her rulers, but they have lost their friends. Set at the end of the Golden Age.
1. Peridanson

"Thought I'd find you here." Jaerin leaned easily against the doorframe watching his brother. The kings' old chamber was decorated with evergreens and ribbons and lit by snow white candles. Papers perched in precarious piles or splayed out across the desks while memorials scattered around the room, sad reminders of what had been. "Ariella was beginning to get worried."

"And Verit sent you after me." Jaer did not move from his seat at what had been the High King's desk.

"Nay, brother. I was already looking for you. 'Twas but chance that I was passing by and heard our wives' conversation."

Shoving away from the door Jaerin walked in, trailing his fingers along the leather bound books that graced one wall of the room. He paused at a well-worn volume—King Edmund had been particularly fond this one.

"Strange how the absence of four people can make a castle such as this seem so empty," Jaer said.

Jaerin nodded. "I was thinking much the same. It is in my mind that such are the thoughts of many this Christmas season."

"And ours not the least. Do you remember our first Christmas with them, Jaerin? We were so very young."

"How could I forget it? You were named White Knight that Eve and our father, Swordmaster. And then right after Yule, our sisters were kidnapped and we had to rescue them. Aye, I remember."

"This will be our first Christmas since then without them. Even when we spent the holiday in Archenland, it was because one of the Four was there with us." Jaer raked his fingers through overlong hair. He turned slightly and Jaerin saw the ink staining his tunic and marking his face. Leaving the bookshelves, he stepped closer and peered over his brother's shoulder.

"What have you been working on?"

"My final farewell. It was to be a tribute to the long Golden Age of their rule. I have been working on it for some time and meant it as their Christmas present. And now," Jaer sighed and rubbed at the stubble on his face. "Now they will never hear it. I do not know if anyone else will either."

"Why not?"

"I cannot finish it. Look."

Jaer gestured at the parchments where an intricate score was traced out. Jaerin picked up the first and hummed the lilting tune.

"That's Lucy."

"Aye. And here is Edmund." Jaer pointed to another page. "And Susan and Peter. And this is all of them together. There is the first battle of Beruna, here Peter's quest into the west."

"And there are the Ettins and the Telmarines, and the Horror." Jaerin shook his head in admiration. "And these are the feasts and the tournaments and the dances. Here are the harvests, the plantings. And…" He stared at where the notes ended abruptly, breaking off in the middle of a phrase. "Where is the rest?"

"There is no more. I have tried for weeks. Such was the end of their reign, cut off in the midst of glory, but I cannot end it there. They are gone, but not dead—this I know—and we will ne'er see our friends again." Jaer groaned and buried his head in his hands. "Narnia has mourned the Four but I cannot seem to do so. Each time I try to write the music to conclude their tale, I cannot. I see not the Four Sovereigns but my friends. Men who were like brothers, women like sisters. Peter, Edmund, Susan, and Lucy—the sword, shield, jewel and song of Narnia and the friends of my heart. My heart weeps for them! My sorrow overwhelms the song."

Jaerin stared at the blank pages for a long while. "I know what you mean." He dragged what had been King Edmund's chair over and sat next to Jaer, straddling the chair backwards. "They were my family too. I kept expecting Edmund to jump out of a closet and declare it all a grand joke for the first weeks. But he didn't." Jaerin leaned forward and rested his hand on his brother's shoulder.

"They are gone, yes, brother. But it is not the end of the Golden Age yet. There is hope yet, despite the pain now. Surely, Farsight, you can see it."

"I don't know yet. I…I cannot. I feel that I must finish this before I can see clearly again."

"Then perhaps this will help." Jaerin pulled a crumpled piece of parchment out his breast pocket. "If I can turn my weeping to words, surely you can turn our sorrow into song."

Slowly Jaer reached out and took the parchment from him. Jaerin watched his brother's expression closely, hoping that this, his own final farewell to his best friends, would break him out of the despair that had clouded his vision since the Four disappeared. He swallowed thickly as memories swept unbidden over his mind. Writing his poem had assuaged his grief, not removed it.

"You wrote this?" Jaer's shocked whisper broke Jaerin's reverie. "It is perfect!"

"Hardly. But can you write music to it, Jaer? Can you finish your song with mine? Will you let us bear your pain with you?"

Green eyes met brown in unspoken harmony. "Aye, brother, I can finish my song with yours." Jaer clasped Jaerin's hand and squeezed it tight. "The melody calls me even now. Have you your flute?"

"Am I ever without it when I know you're in one of your music fits?" Jaerin produced the slim wooden flute from his belt.

Jaer grinned—the first such grin Jaerin had seen in months. "Then let us write music."


	2. Pevensie

"I say, isn't that the armor you wore in the great tournament in the Lone Islands?" Peter pointed at a rather imposing figure guarding one of the myriads of shelves in the treasure chamber. Turning from my contemplation of the piles of jewels, I shook my head in disbelief.

"It's hard to believe I actually wore that." Peter smirked and punched me in the shoulder.

"Oh!" Lucy giggled. "That was the one where Jaerin hit you so hard in the jousting match that you nearly flew out of the ring! He was so very excited that Verit had accepted his proposal. Do you remember how profusely he apologized—only to do it again in the next bout?"

I grimaced. "Yes, Lu. How could I forget? You and Peter and Jaer rubbed it in for weeks. Years in Peter's case."

"So many memories." Lucy trailed her fingers along the dust coated shelves. She picked up a small necklace and smiled. "Do you remember making this for me?" The jewelry dangled from her fingers and glittered in the beam of my torch. It was a necklace I had made during our first year of rule.

"La, Queen Lucy, that I do."

"Lucy, isn't this your old violin? The one Jaer gave you because he got tired of you borrowing his?"

Lucy darted a few steps further down the aisles to Susan's side. I dropped back to be near Peter, smiling at my sister's delight.

"I wonder what happened to everyone. After we were gone." The familiar look of pain at our leaving creased Peter's face. I sighed and draped my arm across Peter's shoulders.

"So do I."

All thought was fled from my mind a moment later as the sweet notes of a violin reverberated in the chamber. Lucy stood a few meters away, her eyes closed, as she coaxed an almost-forgotten tune out of the ancient instrument. It was the song that the Narnians had sung at our coronation and so many other times. An echo of the song by which Aslan brought Narnia into being. A strangled sob came from my left and I saw Susan staring at Lucy, one hand covering her mouth, tears coursing down her face. Dragging an equally dumbstruck Peter with me, I moved closer and wrapped my arm about her. We three stood there, listening as years of memories poured through our hearts. The song ended all too soon and left its tones still whispering in the air.

"That was beautiful, Lu," Peter whispered.

"It's been so long," Lucy said, lowering her bow. "I don't see how I remembered it."

"So much has been lost since our time." An unwanted image of the ruined castle above rose before my eyes. "I wonder what Narnia still remembers."

Lucy turned to put the violin away. "Don't we all." Her fingers stroked the worn velvet of the lining. "Wait, what's this?" She pulled open a small compartment in which was stored a surprisingly thick scroll. "I didn't leave this in there."

I stepped closer, bringing the light of my torch to bear on the yellowed parchment. "How do you know?"

"I _never_ stored music in there. I always carried it in my satchel—or in my head."

"It's sealed with the Peridanson mark. The eagle and the bear. Open it, Lucy."

I could feel Peter's breath on my ear as Lucy broke the seal with trembling fingers. The ancient wax crumpled under her hand and the brittle cord almost disintegrated at her touch. But the parchment did not tear as she carefully unrolled the outer page.

I knew that handwriting. Knew it as well as I knew mine and Peter's. Even without the bold salutation I would recognize it. Jaer Courage Peridanson Farsight, knight of the Most Noble Order of the Lion and friend second only to my family had written this.

"What does it say?" Susan asked. Distantly, I recognized that her voice was still teary.

"It's from Jaer." Somehow my voice stayed steady. "Read it Lucy."

"I can't." Lucy shoved the parchments into my free hand. "Oh! I cannot."

My hand trembled slightly and I forced it still. It was just a letter.

"_Jaer Courage Peridanson, Lord of Beruna, knight of the Most Noble Order of the Lion, Councilor of Cair Paravel, __sometime called Farsight  
To Peter, High King over all kings in Narnia, Emperor of the Lone Islands, and Lord of Cair Paravel, Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Lion, etc. sometime called the Magnificent  
To Susan, Queen of Narnia, __Marchioness of the Dancing Lawn,__ Chatelaine of Cair Paravel, Lady of the Noble Order of the Arrow, etc. sometime called the Gentle  
To Edmund King of Narnia, Duke of Lantern Waste and Count of the Western March, Knight of the Noble Order of the Table, etc. sometime called the Just  
To Lucy, Queen of Narnia, Empress of the Lone Islands, Lady of the Noble Order of the Vial," _(despite the gravity of the situation, Peter still snickered over the name of Lucy's order)_ "etc. sometime called the Valiant: Greetings in the name of Aslan_.

"_This day marks the nine and ninetieth since you rode in pursuit of the White Stag. It is also the first Christmas day since I and my brother had the good fortune to come to Cair Paravel that we have not been able to celebrate with one of you. But though we weep, we also rejoice. For we know that Aslan would not have called you from this land without good cause and that the Great Lion is able to guard your steps in all worlds._

"_Enclosed herein is my final farewell, a token, as it were, of my love for you. I had meant it for your Christmas present. I know not if you will ever see it—Aslan has not granted me sight that far off—but I leave it here, in Lucy's violin box in the joyous event that Narnia is graced with your presence once again. The last passage is Jaerin's writing. Without his steady hand, I fear I would not have been able to complete this symphony._

"_Now my friends, my brothers and sisters, I find I can write no more. My eyes cloud with tears. I miss your friendship so. We miss it so, for Jaerin leans over my shoulder as I pen these words. May Aslan grant us this—that our last token will be seen by the eyes of those we love, by whose side we have fought, in whose arms we have wept, whose joy doubled ours, and whose pain we shared._

"_Written at Cair Paravel this XXV of the month of Yule in the first year of the Stewards care."_

No one spoke or moved for a long moment after I finished reading. Memories of these two friends like brothers swept through my mind. Jaer with his brown hair hanging into his eyes as he swept Fahdane in a deadly arc, his face grim and deadly. Jaerin laughing, his pale blond hair flying in the wind as he sent arrow after arrow unerringly to its mark. The four of us lounging in chairs in our quarters discussing some harebrained scheme of Jaerin's or listening to Jaer's newest composition. And they were gone. I bowed my head as the sorrow of a year ago when we had first left Narnia came over me afresh.

Peter was the first to break the silence. "What is the music, Lu? Can you play it?"

Lucy turned through the thick sheaf of parchment slowly. "No. It is for an orchestra, not a single violin. And…" she sniffled. "It's too complicated for me now."

"What of this?" Susan pulled the last few pages out of the scroll. Unlike the others, this portion of Jaer's symphony had words sketched between the notes. Susan turned my torch toward it and began to read.

"_There is grief we cannot speak of  
__A pain lies deep within  
__Empty halls and empty chambers  
__Where our friends will come no more_

_Here we laughed and wept together  
__Here we spoke of greater things  
__Here we planned a bright tomorrow  
__A time they never saw_

_O! My friends, my friends and family  
__How I weep that you are gone  
__Narnia lost her sovereigns  
__But I have lost my friends_

_And now the thrones are empty  
__Empty, cold, and bare  
__Narnia's sword and shield are lost her  
__Her jewel and song are gone_

_O! Aslan, lord I ask you  
__What you took them from us for  
__I thought their home was with us  
__Now they dwell with us no more_

_O! My friends, my friends and family  
__How I weep that you are gone  
__Narnia lost her sovereigns  
__But I have lost my friends_

_Peace! My child, he answers  
__Can you see my will in this?  
__Through broken hearts and broken hopes  
__You must trust me still_

_Now sorrow cannot claim me  
__While the Lion reigns here still  
__Though hall and throne be empty  
__And the Four be here no more_

_O! My friends, my friends and family  
__I weep no more this day  
__I have not lost my sovereigns  
__I will yet see my friends_"

For a long time we were silent again. What could one say after such a tribute? There was pain, great pain, there but hope lingered still. I was glad to know that Narnia had been left in such capable hands.

Susan moved first, placing the song she held with the rest of the music and sliding it gently back into its hiding place. Lucy nestled her beloved instrument into the case and shut it gently. The click of the lock jolted us all out of ancient memories. My gaze fell on the spot of light that my torch cast on the floor and I realized that it seemed slightly dimmer than when we had entered.

"Look here," I said. And if my tone was abrupt, my siblings must have understood why. "We mustn't waste the battery: goodness knows how often we shall need it. Hadn't we better take what we want and get out?"

Lucy nodded softly and packed the music away again until we could safely retrieve it. The click of the case closing

"We must take the gifts," said Peter.

And so we did.


End file.
